


Life After Death

by FanficAddiction



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:16:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficAddiction/pseuds/FanficAddiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nihal Crux Black, heir and son of the Ancient and Noble House of Black is ready for his first Year at Hogwarts with his cousins Orion and Bellatrix Malfoy. With life after the Dark's victory decades ago, Nihal doesn't think his next years will be any more exciting than that of his fellow classmates. But how wrong he is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Year

Nihal Crux Black stared at the approaching sight with concealed excitement befitting a pureblood heir. The sight that greeted his eyes for the first time was one of wounder even to those raised in the magical world their entire life. His awe was matched by his cousins, the Malfoy siblings of Orion and Bellatrix.

Nihal turned and cast a superior smirk at them, having masked his emotions better than either of them as they watched with large and excited eyes.

Orion caught the look and mimicked it to perfection, their lips nearly identical through the closeness of the Black and Malfoy lines. The other child's lips were a bit thinner, passed on from her mother rather than her father like both males. And they were stretched in a smile that only her cousin and brother could detect. If no one else, family would always be able to catch and understand the briefest displays of emotion in public.

"Ready?" Orian asked, posture the ideal picture of confidence. To the trained eye however, Nihal noticed how his fingers subtly twitched with nerves.

"Of course," Nihal replied honestly. In complete truth, he was relieved to be here. For the past months of summer, Nihal had felt an increasing tension building inside him, like a spring ready to burst. Anticipation and adrenalin seemed to pound through his system that seemed uncalled for and he felt lightheaded as he tried to keep the breathless response from wavering.

Since the Last War of the wizarding world seventy years ago when the Dark Lord took over with the help of one Harry Potter, things had changed drastically - not that Nihal knew from experience. Instead, his Grandfather, Draco Malfoy, had told them stories of how life was during the battles of the light and dark. Othow the proclaimed Savior had turned his back on the liars and abusers who had used him his entire life and joined the dark side in an attempt to fulfill his destiny the right way - save the world from deception and ruin that Dumbledore and Leader of the Light would bring upon them with his bigoted and biased notions of right and wrong.

Harry had spent his last three years at Hogwarts gathering allies and converting people to the Dark Lord's side under the nose of the enemy. By the time the war truly started right on the grounds of Hogwarts, the dark was ready and took the symbol of light and the future of the world by force. Destruction was inevitable, as was the death of many, but years were spent rebuilding the castle to its former glory.

Sadly, the castle would not be seen by the very man who had lost his life in the pursuit of salvation. Harry had fallen in battle fighting a group of rebels who still stood and fought with hope against the dark. They were destroyed, but the dark's victory was not met with celebration. The Dark mourned their lost leader who fought with everything he had and what he believed in with more determination than any other.

Nihal had listened for hours as his grandfather would tell stories of Harry's life; his abuse as a child and his years at Hogwarts before the Tri-Wwazard tournament changed it all for the Potter heir. Even at the age of eleven, Nihal would continue to stare at his grandfather with wide eyes at the tales, unbelieving the strength the man had and all that he had to endure. No one could have endured all that; could have the power to kill a leader of Dark as a baby and again at eleven. Or how he killed the monstrous Basalisk at twelve and stood up to Demontors and a werewolf in his third year.

The idea of Harry Potter had filled Nihal with such amazement and awe that he often found himself desperate for more information and stories. When his grandfather had told him everything he knew - and that was a lot for a man who grew up along with the Savoir and shared his last years as only a brother in all but blood could - he moved on to books and other sources, digging and prying, not understanding his desperate desire for more.

He found out that the Dark Lord had bonded with Harry on the younger's seventeenth birthday and that they had been lovers until Harry fell when he was twenty four.

Under the leadership of both men, new laws had been made that changed the world for the better forever.

Such examples were the expressed forbiddence of interaction between muggles and wizards except by the trained officials in the Muggle Relations department in the Ministry, the locating of muggleborn children and bringing them into the magical world to be adopted by families to raise as their own, the strict enforcement of incest laws which kept lines from diminishing as families intermingled too much, and how, if a wizard or witch chose to leave with Wizarding World, they were allowed, but under the condition of never being able to return, their mind obliviated and wand snapped.

Under these laws, the world around them flourished and entered what could have been called a golden age. There would always be opposition and disagreement, but for better or worse, the world was at peace for the most part. It continued even after they lost their more tolerant and kinder half of the Dark Rule. No one took Harry's death harder than the Dark Lord, Nihal learned from his great aunt Bellatrix for which his cousin was named. 

The man became colder, less likely to forgive like he had when his lover was still alive to calm his temper. The man had grieved in pain and it took years for their leader to be able to try to stay strong and rule by himself in a away that would make Harry happy and proud.

The following years developed many changes still and became the world Nihal had grown up in, one where the Dark Arts were accepted and practiced, how all crimes were persecuted equally no matter who did them, where dark creatures were allowed into society, and how magic mattered no matter who it came from.

Nihal was pulled from his thoughts as the smooth gliding of the boat jerked to a stop. Without pause, the new students were ushered out by the caretaker whose name Nihal didn't know. They were led to the main hall where they gathered and stood huddled together in a way only young and slightly scared children could.

The caretaker left them there with a strict “Stay here,” and left, no doubt to get a teacher to take over.

Nihal gently spun his new wand between his fingers absentmindedly. Ten inches, supple, ash tree wood, Thestral mane hair core rather than tail hair.

He took a subtle breath. While he looked calm outwardly, Nihal couldn't deny he was nervous. Along with the rebuild of the castle, the sorting hat was disposed of. By the Dark Lord's order, each new batch of students would enter the Great Hall which would be expanded for the 'sorting' as the previous years and teachers would observe the first years as they overcame a task. No one was ever killed or seriously harmed, but some did end up hurt.

The Dark Lord believed it was the action and choices a person made that decided who they were and so they were put to the test their first night. At the end of the test, they were to stand in front of a mirror that reflected themselves as it spoke their house.

A door to the side opened and a tall man in teacher robed approached them. Nihal recognized him immediately from the many articles and stories he heard about. He was a Herbology genius and had once been a friend of Harry's when he was alive.

Neville Longbottom.

And while he appeared in his late forties, like most wizards and witches who aged slower than muggles physically, he was actually the age of his grandfather – barely pushing sixty.

“Children,” Neville said.,“I am Professor Longbottom and I am your Herbology teacher.” He gestured to the double doors behind him. “Through these doors your future awaits.”

“You have been told nothing of what will come, but I will say this. Don't try to hide who you are – don't distract yourself by keeping on a front. You need to be focused and on your guard at all times. We wont let anything deadly happen to you, but many of you might get hurt. This is the time to prepare yourself.” He smiled gently, yet a little darkly as if to scare them. “We will be watching,” he said.

Nihal shuddered in delight and anxiety. Anticipation once again bubbled under his skin and his stomach twisted itself into knots as he found himself close to hyperventilating. 

Every year the Dark Lord was present for the sorting, though no one knew why. He watched the test along with the entire school and would make brief visits otherwise, but was hardly present at any other time throughout the school year.

Nihal's finger tips tingled. He knew he had always felt drawn to the stories of the Dark Lord and even if he had never met the man, he felt as if he had been waiting years for this. The tension seemed palpable to him, but a quick glance around showed that no one was paying him any attention, every one in the group looking tense and nervous and thinking to themselves.

The professor spoke again. “Now. Once housed, you will be there permanently,” he began, but Nihal tuned out the official bit of the speech. It was the same every year. His house was like his family, blah blah, house points, blah blah, rules, blah, blah!

Nihal's eyes locked on the unassuming doors behind the professor. He wondered what was behind them, what would decide his true house. He was confident in his abilities, having long been tutored along with his cousins since they were old enough to talk.

“Alright everyone,” Professor Longbottom finished, “In you go.”

With a pause, the kids all shuffled forward into the dark as night room. As the doors slammed shut behind the last student with a resounding clang, they were enveloped completely in black. It was dead quiet for a long moment as if everything was frozen; even their very breath.

Going with his instincts, Nihal swallowed, but grasped his wand tightly and lifted it in the air. “Lumos,” he intoned and lit the area before him. His eyes widened when he met what awaited him.

A girl screamed and chaos erupted.


	2. Chapter 2

Nihal stared dumb at the faceless hood before him, long skeleton-like hands reaching for them as a formless body floated from the ground.

There was a slash of sound that marked the flickering of lights around them, but it wasn't enough to light up the area- instead it was more for the benefit of the onlookers who Nihal couldn't spot rather then to aide the first years.

Thinking fast on his feet Nihal tossed himself in a roll to the side and smoothly jumped into a run. The creature behind him payed him no attention then as he made his way for the few students who were too frozen to move.

Nihal scowled. 'Hufflepuffs,' he figured. He grit his teeth together, wanting to get to shelter, but at the same time, something stopped him, telling him to get them out of there. “I can't believe this!' he growled to himself.

He thought quickly even as he turned to face the group. Pointing his wand in their direction, Nihal called out, “Crepitus!” A loud 'bang' sounded throughout the hall and the room paused, but then blasted into actions, those who had been frozen running like bugs at being discovered.

He sneered at them before retreating behind a set up wall. His bit his lip. Dementors? They had first years facing Demontors!? 

Someone cried out and suddenly a flame shot right through the wood at his back. He shot a look through the new hole and his jaw dropped in shock. From the bit of light around, he spotted several creatures scurrying around, attacking students or fighting them back.

'What the hell!?' Nihal thought. What was he supposed to do? They couldn't possibly take these things down. Most of the students didn't even have training. What were they thinking?

“Nihal!” a familiar voice called. “Where are you!?”

Nihal spotted Orion fighting of a Blast-Ended Skrewt and took in a sharp breath. His cousin was using blasting hexes, but Nihal knew it wouldn't be enough. 

Shaking his head at his cousin, Nihal took after him, dodging spells and hexes in ways he didn't know he was capable of. He called out “Aguamenti !” Water flew from his wand with such a force that his young body almost flew backward from. He steadied his feet and held onto his wand with two hands.

“Blast it now!” he demanded his cousin.

Orion did so and the moment it flew across the – what was it now? A field? And arena? - hall and dived over Nihal to throw them both to the ground in time for a Dementor to fly right over them.

Nihal grunted. “Thanks,” he told him.

“Where's Bell?” Orion asked, head turning from side to side quickly in worry.

Harry scrunched up his face, tempted to say, 'Leave her,' but couldn't stand to be that cruel – not to family. Instead he said, “Don't know.” He looked around with narrowed eyes, taking in the scene before him. He couldn't catalog the room before Orion pulled on his sleeve with a horrified, “Nihal!”

His head snapped to his left and he let out a shout as he dodged a spider the size of a dog as it launched itself at them.

“What is that!?” Orion demanded, looking aghast.

“Acromantula,” he replied gruffly, rising. He barely spared his cousin a look, but a thought shot threw his head that he didn't understand, wondering why he tossed in a mental, 'Will your father hear about this, little Malfoy?'

“A what?”

“A giant spider, basically,” Nihal continued, backing up as eight legs carried a body towards them at increasing speeds. He shuddered. He always hated spiders.

“Blast it then!”

“I'd ask why you weren't then, if I didn't know it wouldn't do any good.” Things like that didn't work on these kinds of spiders.

Orion shouted out random spells at the creature, distracting it rather than hurting it. The large eyes turned towards Orion instead and Nihal had to do something. But what!?

'Arania Exumai...'

Nihal blinked, confused.

'Arania Exumai,' his mind supplied. 

“What...” when had he learned that? He hadn't. Then how-

“Get off! Get off!” He saw the Acromantula on top of his cousin, fighting to reach down and hurt him, but Orion hand it's head away from his body. His wand was rolled off to the side and useless to him now.

He didn't have time to think about where the spell had come from, right now. “Accio wand!” he called and Orion's wand flew into his free hand with ease. He didn't hesitate to point them both at the creature and cry out, “Arania Exumai!

With a scream that made Nihal shudder, the creature flew off his cousin and fell to the side, dead, the power of two wands blasting right through it.

He ran towards his fallen friend, but stumbled to a stop when the collapsed boy disappeared with a soft pop. He stared at the spot before realizing he must have been taken out of the hall.

Nihal shook his head but moved on, keeping both wands in his hand. He placed his back against the walls of the Hall and his mind raced with thoughts. Most of the students were gone, leaving very little left in the rings. Three or four others and it wouldn't be long before he was either next or all alone.

Even as he thought that, a Dementor slowly turned it's faceless head in his direction and he sucked in a breath, scared. His heart thudded in his chest and his breath caught. Another Dementor caught sight of him and both made their way to his practically helpless body.

Dementors, Dementors. How did he get rid of a Dementor? How!?

Suddenly the answer was there, the thought of the wand movement and the incantation. 'Expecto Patronum.' 

He saw them getting closer and withheld a scream. He ran in the other direction, his robes flying behind his eleven year old body. “Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts!”

His eyes widened when he saw a snake slithering towards him, hissing nonsensical sounds and Nihal sped up only to jump over the serpent, turning it into a flip and not halting. “Crap!” he said, his lungs beginning to hurt.

What was happy enough? His first tutoring session? Christmas dinner with grandfather, Uncle Charles and Aunt Janie, Orion, Bellatrix and his own mother and father? Presents? Hearing about Harry Potter?

No, no, it wasn't enough! He heard the whisps of the cloaks approaching, the air getting colder and a chill fall over him. Even now he felt any happy thoughts leaving him, memories of being left alone while his parents had to work, of envying Orion and his sister's relationship because he was an only child.

Finally out of options, Nihal tossed himself around and pointed both wands out in front of him and thought of the first thing that came to his mind as his eyes squeezed shut and he yelled as loud as he could, “Expecto Patronum!”

_Long and soft fingers gently ran down his cheek as he stared into the most beautiful hazel eyes he had ever seen. “I love you, Harry.”_

White wisps shot out from his wands and a misty shape charged towards the approaching creatures. It had no form, but it worked as they fled away with a horribly inhuman sound.

Nihal collapsed onto the floor, out of breath and dazed, the memory faded out from his mind as he tried to grasp at it desperately. He put a hand to his head as everything spun. He winced when light suddenly took the Hall and he peeked through his hand to see teachers holding back the creatures not subdued and ushering them back and out of the room.

There was a deafening sound of applause and Nihal winced and looked up, spotting some students standing and looking just as confused at him, wands still out, more than one bloodied or woozy. There were students sitting on bleachers as walls came down and relieved the area behind the field. There stood the students who had been taken out of the test. Nihal stumbled to his feet as he spotted his cousins looking a little worse for wear, but not overly hurt. Bellatrix's hair was burned off in some areas though and he had to bite his lip to hold in a giggle.

Blacks don't giggle.

Actually, he didn't even know where the insane urge came from. He shook his head.

“Great job everyone,” Professor Longbottom spoke up, standing on an elevated platform. Beside him stood a large and imposing mirror, clear as the sky in summer. It shone in the flickering candles and Nihal was entranced immediately.

“I will call your name one at a time and you will approach the mirror.”

Nihal stood and approached, his name one of the first ones. “Black, Nihal.”

His steps echoed throughout the silence s students watched from their place above them, their sides distinctive and clear by the color of their robes. The mirror urged him forward and it was too long before he stood in front of it, his reflection startling him. 

His pristine robes were covered in filth and part of the corner was even singed off. His shoes were scuffed and as his eyes rose up his own body, he blinked. His hair was everywhere in different directions, the black matching that of his robe. He had a cut on his right cheek he didn't remember getting. But more than that, his usually silver and blue eyes had flecks of green in them. He frowned and stepped closer, leaning in to inspect them. They were his eyes and their intensity surprised him. His lips pursed, confused. 

Suddenly, his eyes trailed off to the side and widened dramatically as he saw for the first time, the Dark Lord.

The man sat on a thrown like chair in the middle of the teacher's table. His hair was dark brown and his hazel eyes bore into his over steepled and elegant fingers.

Nihal swallowed, not breathing. Something caught in his throat and he felt a tightness inside him as he gaped at the man for unknown reasons. He was locked in place for hours it seemed, looking at the gorgeous man with fair skin and high cheek bones. His robes didn't hide that the man was thin, but it showed off his impressive height as his long legs crossed over one another.

Nihal felt a blush rising to his cheeks to his extreme embarrassment and yet, he couldn't pull his eyes away. No, it was like he wouldn't be able to breath if he looked away. It had been too long... much too long.

...What?

“Revenclaw!” the ominous voice called and clapping filled the room. 

The noise fell on two pairs of deaf ears, whose eyes locked and couldn't let go.


End file.
